This Day Just Got a Little Bit Better
by smileyanne
Summary: Kinda an introspective version of Max in episodes 54&55. Slight AU and LANGUAGE. Read A/N!


**A/N: First, I want to say that I'm not a very good writer. My stories tend to come out a little weak. But I love the show Hollywood Heights, and I know it's a little weird but my favorite pairing is Max/Nora. I just think there is something sweet and steady about their relationship. The bad thing about shipping Max/Nora is that there aren't a boat load of stories for them.**

**So half in an effort to improve my writing and relieve boredom, I've decided to go short and slow but to maybe slowly work my way up to a multi-chapter fic shipping the retired rock star and single mom. But, this is NOT gonna be that multi- chapter fic.**

**A little bit of a warning; my grammar isn't the best, and my punctuation absolutely sucks. I'm also comma happy (if you understand what I'm getting at)**

**Disclaimer: We both know I sadly don't own it**

** of spoilers for episodes 44 & 45. Got no clue when Katy's birthday was. If they named it on the show than I missed it. So I'm gonna make up my own date. This is going to be a little bit AU.**

Earlier this morning I had woken up with a proverbial black cloud hanging over my head, and I immediately knew why. Looking over to the calendar situated over the drum set I squinted trying to make out the tiny print from the other side of my apartment. I didn't know why I even bothered, I knew damn well what today's date was; March 13th. The day before _her_ birthday. Today oughta be _fun._

And somehow I just couldn't shake the feeling that it was just gonna get worse.

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Two hours later found Max Duran sitting at the bar of his club, slowly sipping a glass of Scotch with practiced ease. After all it was 5 o'clock somewhere, right?

Even if it wasn't. Drinking at ten in the morning on this particular day wasn't an abnormal occurrence during the past few years for Max. He was just lucky enough to have an understanding bartender that didn't judge, and was willing to listen to him bemoaning how the day had already started.

About five minutes after Max had finished showering, gotten dressed, and avoiding looking at the calendar, his cell phone started to ring. And it hadn't stopped.

Calls, calls about the club, calls about interviews, calls about performances set to go on at the club. He never realized that he'd still have his phone ringing off the hook even after he was retired and out of the relative spot-light. Relative being the keyword. Because once you've made a name for yourself in Hollywood, you're always considered fame royalty. Even an old ex rock star, father to current top of the charts Eddie Duran, owner of the current hottest club around, was still making the tabloids occasionally. But, while he was all those things there was more to him that people seemed unable to see, most importantly the fact that he was still a widow and he was still grieving.

_Rinnnggggggg...Riiinnnnngggggggg..._

Time to get back to work.

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Max seemed to loose a since for time the rest of the day. In parts it seemed to drag while in other parts it flew. All he knew was that when he finally grew aware of his surroundings again, he was sitting in his apartment and it was already 8 p.m.

Eight! Where the hell did the day go?! A dull ache reverberating through his skull pulled him back to the reason he hadn't been aware of his day. Thinking back hard enough he could faintly remember that the two glasses of scotch he had earlier with Grace. Well let's just say that two was a very small percentage of what he actually had, again that he could remember.

Today reminded him of what it had been like in his career with Katy. Even though they hadn't been the stereotypical rock stars, they had had days where one (or both of them) had to muddle through the day drunk or with a killer hangover. After years of practice it took more than a few glasses to get him drunk to the point of him falling on his ass, or actually showing the fact that he had a few.

Katy...He quickly shut down that train of thought. On most days the hurt was getting manageable and he could talk and reminisce about her all he wanted.

But tonight, tonight was just to painful. Trying to avoid the thought of her all day, trying to avoid getting stuck in the past. Truthfully he was mostly afraid of three things; losing Eddie, actually forgetting Katy and her memory, and he was terrified of not being able to move on.

He knew it was perfectly acceptable remembering her and the memories she brought back. He knew he would never forget her, how could he?! But he also knew that him living in the past, trying to forget that she was ever gone, holding on to those things. It wasn't healthy, and if she was here now she'd slap him over the head while telling him to get a move on.

_Riinnng...Riiinnngggggg..._

Looking at the caller I.D, he sighed, it was Daphne.

And it was time to let go of things from the past.

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He was an ass, that was his official decision.

It was final the moment he said the words to end his relationship with a woman whom he was sure was amazing. The only problem was that he couldn't see it. Sure he could see the artificial stuff; she was kind, caring, and willing to put up with his crap. But, no matter how hard he tried he couldn't feel more for Daphne than a platonic friendship. That was one of the contributing factors to the reason he called himself an ass, he couldn't feel more than friendship for her and yet he could tell that she had liked him. Maybe even deluded herself into thinking it was love. Though he could see it for what it was, she 'loved' the Max Duran she had known in the 80's; the fun loving, happy go-lucky rock star. This Max Duran was someone who would just end up hurting her and himself. Sure she was willing to put up with his crap and even try to fix it, but it wasn't fair for her to have to do that and still not produce results. He tried so hard to produce results and he couldn't, she didn't go about it in the right way. Though that wasn't her fault, he needed to wait and find someone who wouldn't need him to be 'fixed', but could help him heal.

Ugh.

He needed to forget for a little while again. Not wanting to go back from the sudden sobriety he had found, he picked up his phone and stared at the keypad trying to decide who to call.

Eddie. He'd call Eddie.

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_Tomorrow's just another day..._

_Tomorrow's just another day..._

_Tomorrow's just another day..._

No, Son tomorrow's not just another day, and you and I both know that.

_1 glass..._

_...2..._

_3..._

_...4..._

_..5..._

_6..7..8.._

_..._

He's got Loren he thought as he drank himself to oblivion.

'I'm happy', he thought as he tossed back another.

'No, I'm not', he thought as the numbers blurred.

._...11_

_...12.._

_..13.._

As the line between real and fake blurred together. Max had a moment of hazy clarity, if he sat here drinking all night he would most likely be dead in the morning. He needed to leave his apartment and go somewhere he wouldn't drink.

Eddie had invited him to the Tate house. He could just go and ask Eddie if he could crash at his place, or ask him to keep an eye on him tonight. Yeah that's what he'd do, he'd go to Eddie.

As he made his way out his door on unsteady feet, he had a nagging feeling that he couldn't place. With his inebriated mind the best he could work out was that everything would be better when he got to the Tate house.

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_Right foot..._

_Left..._

_Right..._

_Left..._

He just concentrated on walking, as he staggered up the walkway to the Tate's front door. Once he reached the door he leaned against the brick wall of the alcove and took a moment to regain his composure. Once he was sure he wasn't going to fall over he reached out and rapped quickly on the door in front of him.

_Deep breath in..._

_Out..._

He heard footsteps coming to the door.

Relief started to seep in. He'd see Eddie soon.

The knob turned. The door opened.

_Nora..._

The fact that Nora Tate had opened the door to her own house shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did. In all honesty he couldn't say that surprise was the reason he felt his breath hitch, or his pulse race.

When she invited him in he felt torn, he knew by then that he was drunk and that going in would most likely result in him making a bigger ass out of himself than he already had today. But, the decision was out of his hands the moment she smiled, and as he followed her inside his day seemed to get a little bit better.

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The first thing to register in his sleep addled brain was the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

_Oh...Crap..._

His cracked open and he sat up quickly in a hurried rush.

_..Oh...No. No. No. NO!_

His eyes wandered the room looking for her with half anticipation and half dread clouding his mind. This was not good! With the help of the intoxicating smell of coffee, memories slowly started to make their way to the front of his mind. He remembered finding out Loren and Eddie had gone to MK looking for him. He remembered eating her making him eat some food, and drink some water. He remembered talking her ear off babbling about some sort of nonsense, and her being gracious enough to listen. He remembered thinking that it was the smart idea to turn down her offer to come inside, but being helpless to her smile he couldn't resist.

_"Max," _a soft voice interrupted his thoughts.

His eyes were dragged almost against his will across the room to lock upon a pair of chocolate brown orbs looking at him with concern. Helplessness was an accurate description of what he was feeling at the moment. Along with a racing pulse, a killer headache (that had nothing to do with her), and an undeniable urge to kiss her.

_"Max," _she repeated when a moment went by without a response.

Wasn't this an interesting start to the day?

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Later that morning Max's mood was on Cloud 9, and he immediately knew why. Event though it was March 14th, one of Max's self-inflicted Doom Days, it wasn't as bad a day as it could've been. Like Eddie said, he'd spent the day with the right person.

Nora. Nora. Nora.

Phew, if there was three things he knew for sure; one of them was that spending the night with Nora had been the best decisions he could've made, the second one was that come hell or high water one day he WOULD kiss her, and the last and most final one was that when it came to Nora Tate he was absolutely helpless.

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**Ok, so when it came to the part where it was supposed to be March 14th I just ran out of inspiration and was writing on fumes. Since then I just don't have it in me to reread those last parts and maybe have to rewrite a whole paragraph. Should I write more about these two?**


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